


The Joy of Courting Your Clueless Best Friend

by ninepointfive (Rinforzando)



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinforzando/pseuds/ninepointfive
Summary: Joy is in love with Wendy.  Wendy just thinks she's affectionate.Or: Joy's step-by-step plan to asking out her best friend who can't seem to take a hint.
Relationships: Park Sooyoung | Joy/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 146





	1. Step one: Give her signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WenJoy really fed us some FANTASTIC content in Wendy's ig live earlier today, so I felt inspired to whip up something small for them! Also, thanks to my girlfriend for helping me think of the title and refining the summary. Enjoy!

_Step one: Give her signs_

_-_

Sooyoung likes to think she has class. On principle, when people need to reach her, she lets her phone ring at least three times before picking up the call. After all, it’s not good to leave the impression that she’s _too_ available. For romantic endeavors, it takes away the allure—the thrill of the _chase_. To others, it could give off the vibe that she has nothing else going on in her life.

For her favorite unnie, though, she makes an exception.

When her screen lights up with Son Seungwan’s caller I.D., Sooyoung swipes to accept not even half a second into the first ring.

“Hi!” she chirps. “What’s up?” She places her pen down on her desk, slamming her textbook shut. Studying is a pointless endeavor now that her concentration has been effectively shot. It’s impossible for her to contain her enthusiasm when it comes to Seungwan, but she figures that it’s okay. Seungwan deserves all the love in the world, and Sooyoung has plenty to give for her. 

“Hey, Sooyoungie!” comes Seungwan’s voice on the other end, staticky and muffled. “I’m about to pass by the convenience store. Is there anything you need?”

“Hmm.” Sooyoung taps at her chin, pretending to consider. She scoots out of her chair and flops onto her bed, flat on her stomach, kicking her legs up. With utmost sincerity, she says, “I need you.”

In lieu of a response from the other end, the wind howls. Although muted, Sooyoung can still hear the ambience of the city life through the tinny phone connection—the humming engines of cars driving by, the rumble of the underground subway trains, the chatter of university students milling about on a Friday night. Then: the smooth glide of glass doors sliding open, along with the high-pitched beeps of items being scanned at cash registers.

After Seungwan is silent for a few seconds too long, Sooyoung starts to think she broke her. “Unnie?” she calls out. She’s lying on her side now, phone pressed flush against her ear to catch any signs that the other girl is alive.

“I’m here,” Seungwan answers. There’s the sound of a box getting thrown into a shopping basket. “Maybe I’ll get some treats for Haetnim, then. And some persimmons. I know you love those.”

“I love _you_ ,” Sooyoung says teasingly. It’s an earnest statement, though. It always is. Maybe one day Seungwan will catch on.

When Seungwan snorts, Sooyoung figures that day is not today.

“Wow, you’re so helpful,” Seungwan remarks, sarcasm dripping in her tone. Sooyoung can imagine fond exasperation on her face—the way she rolls her eyes right before giving a belly-deep laugh. “When did you get so cheesy?”

It isn’t the serious response that Sooyoung wishes it were—not that her joking tone calls for it—but it gets a chuckle out of Seungwan and that’s what matters. Sooyoung smiles, curling a lock of hair around her fingers. “I don’t know. You’re a bad influence.”

“Hush. Do you want me to come over or not?”

“Like you would give up a Friday night with your best friend,” Sooyoung shoots back, rolling onto her back.

“Hmm, I don’t know—there’s a first time for everything.”

She sits up. “No, no. I’m sorry!”

As if handing out a punishment, Seungwan greets the clerk instead of replying to her. Sooyoung hears the beeps of items getting scanned, then tossed into a plastic bag. There’s a _clink!_ and a _cha-ching_! An exchange of coins and of polite _thank you_ s.

It’s only when Sooyoung hears the bustle of the city again that Seungwan deigns to respond. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The lock of hair around her finger has coiled tight around her skin, threatening to cut off circulation. Sooyoung can already feel the nip of pins and needles creeping up the joints. She could scream. How could her declarations of love end up like this?

Oh, well. The important thing is that Seungwan is still coming over. She flexes and unflexes her hand, blood rushing back to the tip of her finger. Extending her arm forward, she points at the ceiling, drawing the shape of Seungwan’s name in the air. “I’ll see you soon, then, unnie?”

“See you soon, Sooyoung-ah.”

She stares at her phone display after the call ends, then clutches her fingers around the left side of her chest, fingers gripping into her sweater as though it can soothe her heartache. It’s almost unfair. Seungwan is so _dense_ , and Sooyoung can only take getting curved so much in one day.

Next time will be better, she vows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really wanted to get something out for them before the comeback, so I'm glad I managed push this out, even if it is short. Whenever I have time/whenever I need to take a break from my other writing projects, I'll be updating this in similarly short installments. Truthfully, I was also planning on posting another WenJoy fic for the comeback, but that one is still in progress--about a third of the way done or so. I'm working on completing the whole thing before I post the first chapter of it, as it is slightly more plot heavy, so I hope you guys look forward to that as well!
> 
> Feel free to follow me at [@jiuwuming](https://twitter.com/jiuwuming)! As always, comments and feedback are welcome!


	2. Step two: Make her feel special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joy and Wendy sing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, a lot has happened since I posted this... Really hoping that Wendy has a speedy recover and that she's doing better every day.
> 
> Without further ado, though, here's the next chapter!

_Step two: Make her feel special_

_-_

Sooyoung loves karaoke night. When she’s with her best friends in the whole world, nothing beats a drunken karaoke night on Saturday evenings. No obligations the next day means they can drink until they’re purple, sing until their throats are sore, stay up until the sun breaks over the horizons. It’s the kind of reckless indulgence that she was denied as a teenager, and as a university student now she refuses to let her freedoms go to waste. That’s just what happens when people are deprived of certain pleasures in life: they crave them more.

And if there’s one thing Sooyoung can’t get enough of, it’s cuddling up with one Son Seungwan.

Maybe that’s what emboldens her to slip her arms around Seungwan’s waist, tugging her in so that their bodies fit snugly together in the booth seat. That, and the shot of soju she’d just downed a few minutes ago. The pleasant buzz of alcohol thrumming through her veins makes her feel a little more forward than usual. More brazen. It stifles that nagging voice of reason in her head that says it’s probably not a good idea to glue herself to her best friend when they’re both tipsy. When she’s feeling more recklessly affectionate and Seungwan is more receptive to it.

“Hey, clingy girl,” Seungwan greets, sending her a lopsided smile that makes Sooyoung’s stomach do flips. Her breath smells like the piña colada she’s been sipping at for the past half hour. Sweet and tangy.

“Hi,” Sooyoung says, feeling giddy that Seungwan actually leans back into the hug, rather than shirking her off. She adjusts her grip around Seungwan’s midriff, peeking over to watch as she scrolls through the song list.

Thankfully, Seungwan doesn’t protest to the clinginess like she normally does. Doesn’t even shoot her that bemused look she always gives whenever Sooyoung gets all up in her personal bubble. It’s been a long journey to get to this point. In the beginning of their friendship, Seungwan would have squirmed away from any sort of touch—even something as innocuous as linking arms—but years of chipping away at her reserved shell has earned Sooyoung the privilege of embracing her close. Sooyoung celebrates the small victory by nuzzling into her, simply savoring the cozy warmth between them.

In truth, it’s a rarity that Sooyoung gets to indulge in physical affection like this with her: hands clasped around the bare flat of Seungwan’s stomach, tucked in the space below her crop top sweater; chin propped on her shoulder; their sides pressed flush against another. Seungwan is usually so sheepish about skinship that being with her now feels like a treat. Like getting to hold a skittish cat that’s finally relaxed enough to be pampered.

On the opposite end of the seat, a red-faced Seulgi is halfway passed out, her mic threatening to slip from her loose grip onto the floor. Next to her, Yerim is already knocked out cold, head slumped onto the side arm of the couch. Joohyun, being the only rich working woman out of all of them, has already clocked out for the night (but not without paying their tab), citing something about being older and needing to sleep earlier and ‘ _I’m not the spritely youth that you are anymore, Sooyoung-ah_.’

While it’s a shame that their other friends are checked out—physically or mentally otherwise—a selfish part of Sooyoung delights in the fact that she and Seungwan are effectively alone together now. There’s something about the absence of other conscious people in the room that makes the space feel a little more intimate. Like they’re in their own little world, basking in the dim neon lighting of the private karaoke booth and the dull bass synths drumming from the television speakers.

“Ohh,” Sooyoung pipes up, pointing at a selection on the screen. “You should do this one!”

Seungwan squints, regarding her with a dubious look. “You want me to _Ring Ding Dong_ it at this time of night? Seriously?”

“No—the one below it!” Sooyoung clarifies, nudging her. It’s Zion T’s _Snow_ , a melancholic winter song with mellow piano and soulful string instrumentals. A nice post-midnight tune—perfect for when everyone else is sleeping. Calm, soothing. “I really like when you sing ballads.”

Seungwan hums in consideration, tilting her head. “I’m going to have to pitch up a whole octave. You really want me to sing this? When I’m kind of drunk and might sing off key?”

“Yeah, why not? It all sounds good when it’s you.”

Seungwan snorts. “I don’t know about that. My voice might crack.”

Even through her nervous laugh, Sooyoung can hear the frown in her inflection without even looking at her. Feels her shoulders tense in that way whenever she second guesses herself. 

“I love your voice cracks, too,” Sooyoung says without missing a beat. It makes her bristle a bit—the fact that Seungwan can talk down on herself so easily. Sooyoung tightens her hold around her, as though she can squeeze out all her insecurities. Tries to mend over that chink in her confidence before Seungwan can spiral into negativity, as she tends to do.

It probably works, because then Seungwan chuckles lightly and loosens up. “If you say so,” she relents, albeit not without a fond eye roll. She taps play on the song, and the lilt of the violins and the jingles of piano fill the room.

When Seungwan’s smooth voice cuts into the air, Sooyoung presses in closer—close enough that she can feel the reverberations of her vocal cords buzzing through her body. This is Sooyoung’s favorite part of karaoke night: just being near Seungwan when she sings, getting blessed by her heavenly vocals. It’s even better now that she’s the only audience member. In moments like these, she can pretend that Seungwan is singing just for her. Every single line of those romantic lyrics.

> “ _I wish white snow would be outside tomorrow morning  
>  Then I’ll make you a warm cup of tea  
>  Just keep staying by my side  
>  Promise me_.”

At the instrumental interlude, Sooyoung lets out a contented sigh, letting the music lull her to a relaxed, boneless state. She can tell she’s getting to the point where the alcohol is just making her more sleepy than anything, dulling her senses: the music in her ears becoming more and more muddled, the disco lights in her vision blurring into a backdrop of neon bokeh. Just as she’s about to close her eyes, though, Seungwan breaks out of her hold, scooting away.

At the absence of Seungwan’s presence, Sooyoung stumbles and nearly falls over onto the seat. She catches herself just on time before she faceplants onto the sofa. “Hey, what gives!” she yelps, sitting upright. “I was getting comfy!”

Seungwan snickers. “You _do_ know this is supposed to be a duet, right?” she says, passing her another mic. It’s a gaudy looking thing: a hefty stainless-steel object dyed in metallic gold, bedecked in plastic toy jewelry that’s lost all of its sparkle and gone foggy, all chafed at the base where possibly thousands of grimy hands have worn it out. “It’s your turn.”

Begrudgingly accepting the mic, Sooyoung grumbles. For all her kindness, Seungwan is surprisingly demanding at times. Maybe that’s the problem with having a crush on her: Sooyoung is so starstruck sometimes that she forgets Seungwan has a playful streak to her. One that isn’t afraid to rile her up once in a while.

Her annoyance is short-lived, however, when she catches sight of the soft smile gracing Seungwan’s face—the one that shines bright as ever, without the hint of mischief that she was expecting. Just the innocent desire of someone who wants a partner to sing with. Wanting _Sooyoung_ to sing with her.

Sooyoung’s heart melts instantly. Resistance crumbling, she brings the mic to her mouth without further question, and the way Seungwan’s face lights up makes all the trouble worth it. God, she’s incredibly whipped (but she also doesn’t mind that too much).

Looking directly into Seungwan’s eyes, she opens her mouth and sings.

> “ _Don’t rush, there are things I haven’t told you yet  
>  After we fall asleep, today will become yesterday  
>  Just keep staying by my side  
>  You promised_.”

Throughout the song, they trade lyrics back and forth, weaving their lines seamlessly together. To Sooyoung’s surprise, Seungwan joins in effortlessly with the lower harmony, their voices blending like honey and tea. Her astonishment must have shown on her face, because Seungwan just gives her a smug grin—that stupidly charming lopsided grin like she knows she’s pulling off something cool and that she’s so proud of herself for it. Sooyoung rolls her eyes, even as fondness swells in her chest. What a showoff.

Seungwan being a showoff isn’t a problem, though. The problem is the way that Seungwan looks when she’s singing—the way she always immerses herself in the lyrics, becoming one with the writer behind them, looking all the more like a girl in love. She’s always said that she doesn’t understand love, that she’s never experienced any sort of romance. But watching her now makes Sooyoung question otherwise. The tender expression on her face, the gentleness behind her eyes.

The problem is _that_ look. The look that she’s directing at Sooyoung now.

It’s almost painful, knowing that it’s not real. But it’s not a crime to pretend, just for a little bit, right?

Thankfully, the music fades out just in time before Sooyoung can get too caught up in her emotions. (Delusions, rather. But she takes what she can get.)

“Thanks for singing with me, Sooyoung-ah,” Seungwan says softly.

Sooyoung huffs, slapping the mic on the table. She shuffles back into Seungwan’s space, plopping her head onto her lap. “Can I finally rest now?”

Seungwan laughs, patting her head. “Yeah. I’ll sing one more song for you, then?”

“You better.”

The track that Seungwan chooses isn’t one that Sooyoung recognizes. The piano backtrack is pleasant, though. Romantic. It’s funny—for someone who claims not to know anything about love, these kinds of songs are Seungwan’s strong suit.

When Seungwan starts to sing in English, Sooyoung closes her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the melody of her voice.

> “ _Don’t think that I’m not interested  
>  I'm just playing hard to get  
>  So much about this crazy game they call love  
>  That I’m trying to understand  
>  So could you be my best friend  
>  Before you call yourself my man  
>  Why can’t I love you in slow motion, take my time?_”

The song is nice, but it’s made even more beautiful by Seungwan’s vocals. She sounds even more expressive than usual. Like there’s more yearning in her singing. Has she been practicing?

It’s too bad that she can only understand one out of every five words in the lyrics, though. Even more of a shame that she can barely keep herself awake by the time the song ends.

“That was really good,” Sooyoung manages to croak out. “You’re such a good singer, unnie. So, very, good. Amazing! Like, really—”

“Yes, yes.” She laughs, hushing her. “Goodnight, Sooyoungie,” Seungwan whispers, brushing the hair out of Sooyoung’s face.

“Goodnight,” she mumbles back. “I love you, unnie.”

“Love you, too. And… thank you.”

Even on the brink of sleep, Sooyoung doesn’t miss the kiss on the crown of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs I used in the fic are ones that Wendy sang in her 191222 instagram live!  
> [Snow by Zion T ft. Lee Moon Sae](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYrdIj-BnM8)  
> [Slow Motion by Karina Pasian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSQ0Pr3RPno)
> 
> If you guys want to see where Wendy sings them, here are the timestamps respectively:  
> [Snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YaCZZ2JDBcw&t=3626s)  
> [Slow Motion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YaCZZ2JDBcw&t=2516s)
> 
> And of course: [Joy's legendary "I love your voice cracks too."](https://youtu.be/YaCZZ2JDBcw?t=663)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me at [@jiuwuming](https://twitter.com/jiuwuming)! As always, comments and feedback are welcome! Until next time.


	3. Step three: Impress her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hopes of impressing Wendy, Joy cooks for the Lunar New Year celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this done by yesterday, whoops! Definitely did not anticipate this chapter being so long.
> 
> Happy belated Lunar New Year, everyone! I hope you all enjoy!

_Step three: Impress her_

_-_

Sooyoung would consider herself a decent chef. It’s the sort of experience that comes with being the eldest of two working parents with many hungry daughters to feed: when they’re busy, the task of cooking falls onto her. Considering how not many of her peers know how to cook for themselves, she wears her competency in the kitchen as badge of pride.

There isn’t any big secret to cooking or anything. It’s just that what separates a newbie from a master isn’t the cooking itself but the laborious slog of prep work: mixing and measuring wet ingredients, washing and chopping vegetables into manageable chunks, seasoning and marinating the meats to savory perfection. There needs to be a delicate balance of everything. Things need to be cleaned the right way, cut the right way, salted the right way. It’s high maintenance work—something that only a real chef would be able to handle. And after years of cooking for her bratty younger sisters, Sooyoung has that sort of expertise in spades.

More so than the rest of her friend group, at least.

It’s what makes her the ace in their get-togethers whenever they plan anything that requires homemade cooking. With the upcoming Lunar New Year celebration tonight, it’d been a unanimous decision to put her in charge of the grocery shopping and the food prep so that they could all make kimbap together and barbeque together. This year, they’re meeting up at Seulgi and Joohyun’s new apartment located right in the center of Seoul—a house warming of sorts, both to congratulate Seulgi on her new salaried position as an animator and to welcome the coming of the new year. Being situated on the fifth floor, their balcony hosts a fantastic view of the Han River where the fireworks are going to be lit.

More importantly, it’s _away_ from the fireworks themselves: far enough that the crackles and booms won’t deafen any ears, but close enough that they can still enjoy the show. After last year’s debacle where they had all watched up close from the bridge, with both her and Joohyun alternately shrieking at each thundering explosion in the sky (and generally having a bad time being smushed in between crowds), it’d been a natural choice to take the festivities indoors instead. A nice, private setting just for the five of them—without having to sacrifice the grand display of new year’s fireworks. It’s the perfect setup, really.

Which is why it’s also a fantastic opportunity for her to seduce Seungwan with her cooking skills.

Even with all their years of being friends, there’s never been a real chance to show off her culinary prowess. Maybe that’s why it’s taken her so long to get anywhere with her in the romance department. After all, they say food is the way to a person’s heart, and there’s only so much that Sooyoung can do without hitting a wall. A very tall wall in the form of Seungwan’s staggering obliviousness.

But tonight, Sooyoung plans to don her apron and scale that wall. Take that first step into something a little more intimate between them. Test the waters of platonic-turned-hopefully-romantic domesticity.

It’s a foolproof plan. She can see it now, how the events will unfold. Seungwan will taste her cooking for the first time, and her eyes will pop open in that dramatic way whenever she eats something delicious. She’ll start begging Sooyoung to make her some lunch boxes to take to work. Then, much later, once she’s realized she can’t settle for anything less than the perfection of her homemade meals to get by each day, she’ll drop down on one knee and ask for Sooyoung’s hand in marriage.

She snorts at her own train of thought. It’s definitely one of her dumber daydreams, but there’s a bit of a guilty pleasure letting a fantasy go wild.

With a goofy grin and a bounce to her step, Sooyoung makes her way to the apartment door, half a dozen plastic grocery bags in tow. The grin falls off her face when clatters and clangs sound from the other side of the door, followed by a few choice swear words from someone who she’s pretty sure is Seungwan.

Warily, Sooyoung raps her knuckles against the doorframe.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Seungwan rasps out as soon as she opens the door. There are shreds of cabbage leaves stuck on her cardigan and a smear of soy sauce on the left side of her cheek. Her hair has fallen loose from her ponytail, leaving a mess of stray locks framing her face.

In spite of it all, she still looks cute.

Sooyoung decides to voice as much. “You look great,” she says, laughing as Seungwan deadpans at her. “Do I even want to know what happened while I was gone?”

“Honestly, no, but you’re going to have to anyway,” Seungwan replies, stepping to the side to let Sooyoung in. Ever the gentlewoman, she takes some of the groceries from her hand and places it onto the table. “Seulgi and Joohyun-unnie went to get some more soju and hard cider because they ran out.” Then, with a despairing groan: “They let Yerim help with the food prep.”

“Ah.” Yerim in the kitchen, with only Seungwan to supervise her. So that’s what all the commotion was about. They’ve always been a historically inharmonious pair—a disaster in the making.

“Anyway,” Seungwan says, slipping on her bubble vest, “I’ve got to run back to my apartment and get a few things. Think you can handle watching over Yerim while I’m gone?”

Sooyoung frowns, eyeing the scenery outside the balcony window. The sun is dipping low on the horizon, painting the cityscape a rich amber. “It’s about to get dark outside soon, unnie. Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?”

Seungwan shoots her an incredulous look. “And leave Yerim alone here? Hmm, I think not.”

On cue, Yerim yelps an ‘ _oh, crap!_ ’ from the kitchen. There’s another crash of dishware.

Sooyoung winces. “Well, I guess that’s my signal to go help,” she says.

“That it is,” Seungwan agrees, laughing. “Good luck with that. I certainly didn’t have any.” She wraps her scarf over her shoulders, tugging it snug around her neck. “I’ll be back soon, Sooyoungie. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Wait, unnie,” she calls out, pulling her back by her arm sleeve. Sooyoung whirls her around, and the adorably confused expression that greets her makes her heart flutter a little. “You can’t go out like this.”

Drawing out her chickie-patterned handkerchief from her pocket, Sooyoung leans in, eyebrows knit in concentration as she brushes off the stray shreds of cabbage still clinging onto Seungwan’s shirt. There’s a small intake of breath as Sooyoung cups her face, dragging the handkerchief across her cheek. With a few gentle dabs and sweeps of the cloth, she wipes her skin clean of any traces of soy sauce, booping her nose with a tap of her finger once it’s all done.

“There,” she says, softly, taking a step back to admire her handiwork. Seungwan is still pretty as ever. A satisfied smile curls on her lips. “Now you can go.”

“Oh, wow.” Seungwan shuffles her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. “Uh, thanks. I didn’t even notice any of that.”

Sooyoung laughs. “Yeah, I know. Yerim can be a handful sometimes.” With a light push, she ushers Seungwan out of the door. “See you, unnie.”

“Right,” she says, sending her a bashful smile. “See you.”

When the door closes, Sooyoung stares after it for a while. Warmth blossoms deep within her chest. Is this how a relationship would feel like? Living with Seungwan, tidying her up before sending her off to work?

Yerim screams again, and the thought disappears as soon as it had come, like a wisp of smoke.

* * *

Yerim’s food prep ‘help’, as it turns out, is a… generous way to describe it.

The sight that greets Sooyoung as walks into the kitchen is a horrific one: Yerim brandishing a knife, chopping cloves of garlic, apron hanging loose and untied over her front, head craned back as though the garlic is going to jump out and attack her. In the wake of her attempts at cutting, ugly and jagged pieces litter across the cutting board. Upon closer inspection, Sooyoung realizes that the skins of the cloves haven’t even been peeled yet; they’re flaking all over the place, sticking onto the other pathetic-looking lumps of garlic.

The appalling thing is that’s not even the worst of it. Yerim’s also violating at least three different safety rules for knife usage: slicing toward her body instead of away, guiding the knife using the tips of her fingers instead of the flats of her knuckles—and… is that a dull butter knife she’s cutting with?

It is.

When Yerim starts using her palm as a cutting board, Sooyoung decides she’s had enough.

“Yerim, you’re going to give me a stroke,” Sooyoung frets, rushing in and swiping the knife from her hand. Pulling out a real knife from a drawer, she shoulders Yerim off to the side, taking over and chopping the cloves with swift, practiced ease.

“Um, rude?” Yerim says. “I was actually nailing it.”

“By cutting on your palm? Sweetie, no. Just—no.”

“It’s for precision,” Yerim explains in a sagely voice. The scary thing is Sooyoung can’t tell if she’s being serious or if she’s just messing with her. “I was really getting at it, you know?”

Despite the grievances, Yerim easily parts from the food, allowing a wide berth for Sooyoung to work. She even has the audacity to stuff a ball of kimbap rice in her mouth, too, instead of actually being helpful.

Sooyoung moves onto julienning the carrots into neat little strips. “The only thing you’re ‘nailing’ or ‘getting at’ is my skyrocketing blood pressure when I’m watching you work.”

Yerim scoffs. She pops another rice ball in her mouth. “That’s funny, because that’s how I feel when I’m watching you try and flirt with Seungwan-unnie,” she shoots back, lips smacking loudly as she chews.

The comeback catches Sooyoung so off guard that she drops the knife. Heat rises to her neck. She whips her head to glare at her. “You did _not_.”

“I did,” Yerim challenges, leaning back against the kitchen island, matching her glower with a shit-eating smirk. It’s truly a tragedy that out of all of their friends, Yerim’s been the only one to call her out on her crush. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Her cheeks start to burn. What _can_ she do about it? It’s not like her attempts at flirting have gotten her very far. Or anywhere at all. “Nothing,” she grumbles, breaking eye contact to focus on the food again, chopping the rest of the carrots. Her bottom lip juts out in a pout. 

Yerim’s eyes widen in a way that looks like alarm—a rare display of the humanity that’s still left in her. She shoves her half-rolled ball of rice back onto the plate as she scoots back to Sooyoung, nudging her. “Hey, unnie, I was just kidding.”

Huffing, Sooyoung scrapes the carrots onto a serving plate next to the other assortment of kimbap fillings—slices of imitation crab meat, long strips of cucumber, raw shredded beef. There’s also a few helpings of rice cake and dumplings set across from some soup broth. Even with all the mess in the kitchen, it seems like Yerim and Seungwan managed to be productive after all. Miraculous.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Why don’t you just tell her already?” Yerim sidles over to the garlic, taking the time to remove the skin flakes from the pieces she’d chopped, flicking them into the garbage. “You two are best friends, you know. And this is Seungwan-unnie we’re talking about. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way, she wouldn’t think any differently of you.”

“It’s not that,” Sooyoung answers, frowning. Because it isn’t. It’s not that she’s afraid of a rejection, or that she’s worried Seungwan will hate her. Seungwan is too nice for any of that—and that’s the problem.

Yerim raises an eyebrow at her. “It isn’t?”

Sooyoung splits the beef into two portions: a simple sprinkle of salt and pepper on one half to bring out the natural aromatic flavors of the meat; a slathering of bulgogi sauce on the other for a sweet and nutty contrast. “It’s just—I can’t ask her out until I’ve completed every step of my plan.”

Her other eyebrow shoots up to her forehead. “Plan?” Yerim echoes, sounding almost impressed. “You have a plan?”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. “Of course I have a plan. I’m not going to half-ass a confession, Yerim.”

“That’s dedication. True love. I’m rooting for you, unnie.” Yerim pretends to wipe a tear from her eye. “What step are you on now?”

“Winning her heart over with food.”

Yerim nods. “Solid.”

“Right?” Sooyoung says, giggling. She flips her hair haughtily. The tail ends of her ponytail smack into Yerim’s face, but Yerim takes it like a champ despite the squawk she gives. “All my years of cooking haven’t been for nothing. There’s no way I can botch this.”

No way at all.

* * *

Again, cooking is the easy part.

It’s what comes next that’s hard: the plating, the presentation. There’s a sort of art that goes into it that goes hand-in-hand with prep—a personalized touch that can’t be emulated with strangers. Like cutting sandwiches diagonally in the way that her middle sister likes, or using sauce to draw cute animal faces on the rice for the youngest. While store-bought or takeout dishes are decent enough—certainly acceptable in situations where people just don’t have enough time or energy to cook—nothing beats homemade meals prepared with the utmost care and love. Something like that takes real effort. Sincerity.

It’s with that thought in mind that Sooyoung tries to make a kimbap box for Seungwan.

Of course, the keyword is: tries.

“That’s… an interesting way to make kimbap,” Joohyun remarks lightly as she enters the kitchen, setting down the six-packs of cider onto the table. She’s peering over the kitchen island, staring at the results of Sooyoung’s hard work with all the energy of a concerned mother who’s trying not to be too judgmental of her child attempting but failing spectacularly at a task.

Yeah, so maybe Sooyoung had overstuffed her kimbap. And so what? Does it really matter if the kimbap is bursting at the seams? Does it really matter if it’s going to explode? The food still tastes good, and that’s all that matters. A little experimentation never hurt anyone.

“It’s called _innovation_ , unnie,” Sooyoung retorts, rolling her kimbap tighter. The seaweed rips open entirely as a result, innards overflowing from the split—but that’s fine! Perfectly fine. It gives her the opportunity to slather a layer of gochujang paste all over the whole concoction. One can never get enough spice, after all.

Joohyun’s still staring at her kimbap. Worry lines have started to crease on her forehead. Sooyoung fights the urge to shrink away. Can’t a girl get a little privacy here?

“Innovation,” Joohyun repeats, flatly. 

“Yeah, it’s something that folks of the _older_ generation don’t understand, since you all are stuck in your _old_ ways.”

“Right…” she drawls. The lot of them have insulted Joohyun’s age so much by now that she doesn’t even react anymore. Her wary gaze on Sooyoung’s kimbap is unwavering even as she slips on a pair of food prep gloves and sets up her own wrap.

“You guys look like you’re having fun,” Seulgi pipes in, grinning. She’s carrying a few glass bottles of soju on one hand and a carton of Yakult tucked under her arm. “Everything smells delicious, too. Thanks for preparing everything, you two.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Yerim says, gobbling up another rice ball. “I’ll have you know I did most of the heavy lifting, though.”

Sooyoung sends her a _look_ , then stares pointedly at the bamboo rolling mat in front of her. It’s empty sans a layer of cling wrap and dry seaweed. “Did you, now.”

“Nice job, Yerimmie!” Seulgi says, distractedly, sweeping past them to put away groceries in the fridge. Sooyoung’s eyes roll so hard that she’s surprised they don’t rotate to the back of her head.

Yerim clears her throat. “You know, Sooyoung-unnie is actually pretty good at cooking,” she comments—a poor attempt at placating her but Sooyoung will let it slide. She has more pressing things to worry about. Like salvaging her kimbap.

Joohyun’s concerned expression morphs into something a little more aghast as Sooyoung slaps another layer of seaweed on her wrap and rolls it into a ball. It’s like trying to mend over a leaky pipe with a bandage—crude, but it works. Kind of.

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Joohyun says, shielding her eyes from the sight with one hand. “Sooyoung-ah, for someone who’s so good at cooking you’re surprisingly—hm, how should I put this…”

“Don’t say anything at all, perhaps,” Sooyoung suggests snippily. Even in the face of near-disaster, she manages to roll the ball into a perfect sphere. It’s revolutionary. She’s a genius. She’s—

“Clumsy,” Joohyun finishes, rolling up her first kimbap. It turns out just like her: beautiful, symmetrical, perfect proportions. “Yes, that’s the word.”

Before Sooyoung can think any better of it, she flings rice at her.

It’s a mistake.

The chain of events that follows is unbelievable, almost:

  1. Joohyun screams. That’s not an issue, though. Knowing how jumpy she is, it’s a given that any unexpected projectile thrown her way will make her scream.
  2. The issue starts when Yerim startles at said scream, sending a ball of rice flying that hits Seulgi square on the face.
  3. It all reaches a climax when Seulgi stumbles, dropping her bowl of mandarins all over Joohyun’s head.



When the dust settles, mandarins rolling across the floor, Joohyun is only smiling at her.

The smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Oops?” Sooyoung peeps.

“Yah,” Joohyun says, voice disconcertingly even. Almost calm. “Park Sooyoung.”

Sooyoung is already bolting out of her chair at the sight of Joohyun rolling rice between the palms of her hands. Not even a second later, the rice ball whizzes past her head.

Never let it be assumed that a scorned Bae Joohyun isn’t petty enough to retaliate.

* * *

“Hey! I’m back—oh, wow.”

Cold dread fills the pit of Sooyoung’s stomach. There’s sauce all over her clothes and a slop of avocado under her chin, courtesy of Joohyun. “Unnie,” she says, fumbling for a napkin to wipe herself off.

“Hey, Sooyoungie.” Seungwan, bless the deities above, doesn’t notice—or if she does, she doesn’t comment. Instead, she whistles, assessing the state of the room. “Who summoned a hurricane in here?”

“Sooyoung started it,” Joohyun insists, pointing at her. “Not my fault.”

Understanding dawns in Seungwan’s eyes. She shakes her head, laughing. “What are you guys—five?”

Truly, everything is a mess. There are wads of stray rice sticking on various parts of the room—on the ceiling, underneath the table, between the kitchen cabinets. She’s pretty sure some is caught in her hair, too.

Joohyun, though, looks pristine as ever.

It’s not the only pristine thing about her either. Despite their minor scuffle, Joohyun has still managed to complete a neat row of kimbap rolls, all equally perfect in size and shape. Seulgi’s also got a few of plump rolls made, but hers haven’t ruptured open yet unlike Sooyoung’s. Even Yerim, for all her usual empty boasting, has scraped by with a couple of functional ones.

Sooyoung stares down at her own plate.

She’s only made kimbap balls. Two in total, to be exact.

So much for her plan to woo Seungwan. She sighs. C’est la vie, or whatever.

“Yo, welcome back, unnie!” Yerim greets. “Look—” She shoves her plate in Seungwan’s line of sight. “—I actually learned how to make kimbap rolls!”

“You mean you aren’t already a master at it like everything else, learning from your mom at the tender age of six?” Seungwan quips back, smirking when Yerim lets out an affronted gasp. “They actually do look… normal, though. Wow. I would clap for you, but—”

She raises her arm, gesturing to the load of supplies she’s carrying in canvas tote bags. It’s mostly a clump of new year’s decorations—a long string of banners, a couple of red sky lanterns, some paper cranes. Leave it to Son Seungwan to go all out on festivities.

Seulgi perks up. “Seungwan!” she chirps, moving to assist her and taking one half of the load. “You made it back just in time. The fireworks are going to start soon.”

“Not before we set everything up! Come on, Seulgi.”

Even without much verbal communication, the two of them work to set up the decorations in a scarily efficient manner: Seulgi lighting the lanterns for Seungwan to hang outside the balcony; Seungwan other setting up strings above the balcony doorway for Seulgi to pin up the paper cranes. It’s all done within minutes. Sooyoung figures it’s just a 94’er thing—a special telekinetic link between friends born in the same month and year, barely over ten days apart.

“Oof, I’m actually kind of hungry after all of that,” Seungwan huffs, rubbing her belly. She eyes the kitchen island. “Are there any leftovers for me to make?”

Sooyoung’s hands grow clammy. There it is. Her make it or break it moment. She looks down at her kimbap balls and takes one into her hand. They’re nowhere close to perfect, but—

“Don’t worry about it, Seungwan,” Joohyun says, blissfully unaware of Sooyoung’s plight as she hands Seungwan a plate of her irritatingly flawless kimbap rolls. “I made some extra.”

“You’re the best, unnie!” Seungwan cheers, accepting the proffered food. “Ooh, these look amazing.”

Dropping her kimbap ball, Sooyoung barely contains her groan as she watches Seungwan walk out to the balcony with the others. Even at a distance, she can still hear Seungwan moan appreciatively into her first bite.

Would it be too weird to blurt out that she’s actually the one who cooked everything, even though Joohyun’s the one who made it look good?

It would be, wouldn’t it.

The moment the rest of them all step out, Sooyoung buries her face in her hands and lets out her groan. When she musters up the willpower to get up again, she finds Yerim turned around, trying to catch her attention from through the balcony window.

The look she’s giving her is a little too much like pity.

 _Better luck next time_ , Yerim mouths.

* * *

‘Next time’, fortunately, doesn’t take too long to come.

There’s still the barbeque to handle. The assortment of raw meats on the balcony table are store-bought and don’t have the special touch of her personal care and marinade recipes, but at the very least she can show off her skill on the grill. That’s… something, right?

Before Joohyun can even touch the tongs, Sooyoung swoops in and swipes them from right under her nose.

“I got it, unnie,” she says, rolling up her sleeves. She twists the knob on the portable gas range, flames sparking alive under the cast iron grill plate. “Just relax.”

“Are you sure, Sooyoung-ah? You already cooked a lot for us earlier.”

Sooyoung smiles at her, feeling her earlier irritation subside at the sight of Joohyun’s worried look. They have a lot of silly fights, but she’s never once doubted that Joohyun cares for her. “I’m sure,” she insists. “It’s the least I can do when you gave us the money to buy all the groceries in the first place.” That’s the partial truth, at least.

Joohyun smiles. “Then, thank you,” she says, sitting back down.

Yerim snickers. “So cool.”

“Silence, Yerim,” Sooyoung snaps. Yerim sticks her tongue out at her.

Sooyoung places a rack of galbi on the grill, sighing contently as the sweet scent wafts in the air. “Say, when are the fireworks happening, again?” she asks, checking the time on her phone. “Aren’t they supposed to start around n—”

The first burst of fireworks illuminates the sky.

They all collectively gasp.

Sooyoung turns to look at Seungwan, who’s smiling widely at the display with Seulgi by her side. It’s pretty, the way that the reflections of her eyes catch the shower of sparks.

Then, the sounds catch up.

A shockwave zips to eardrums. She inhales as sharp pain stabs at her head. It’s grinding static all over again, just like last year. Shrill and piercing. Deafening.

Her motor skills short-circuit. The tongs fall from her hands, and they tumble onto a plate with a loud _clank!_ A glob of marinade oil splashes onto the open fire. Flames billow wide and tall over the grill. The pleasant aroma of the beef distorts into smoky fumes that choke her lungs.

Distantly, Sooyoung can hear the others yelling for her, but it’s all just a muddle of noise. She shrieks when another _boom!_ hits her ears. She’s covering them with her hands now and squeezing her eyes shut, but even then it’s still all too much—the clamor of the fireworks and of people fussing, the greasy smells of the barbeque. Just, everything.

She crouches down to the ground before her knees can give out.

“Hey, Sooyoung,” someone says from behind her. She feels a gentle tap on her shoulder, then a hand running soothingly up and down her back. Only Seungwan does that. “It’s okay. Come on.”

Seungwan tugs at her arm, and she’s vaguely aware of being led back inside the apartment. She hears the door slide shut behind them, and then the noises stop.

It takes a little more for the rest of her body to catch up to the calm. Her fingers are trembling still, but Seungwan only grasps them, steadying her, dragging her to the couch so they both can sit down. She’s breathing with her—in and out, long and steady. Sooyoung instinctively follows her example, and it’s not long before she can feel sensation in her limbs again. Experimentally, she flexes the hand that Seungwan is holding, feeling warmth, then laces their fingers together.

“You’re okay,” Seungwan soothes, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, brushing Sooyoung’s hair back from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Sooyoung sniffles, bowing her head. How does it always turn out like this? An optimistic start to the day that ends up in shambles. “I didn’t expect to be that startled by the fireworks still. This was supposed to be a fun night for us before you left for Canada to see your parents for the new year, and—”

“No,” Seungwan interrupts, pressing a finger to Sooyoung’s lips to hush her. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. The fireworks _are_ still kind of loud even though we’re far away.”

Sooyoung’s lips burn even when Seungwan retracts her finger.

“Is Joohyun-unnie okay?” she asks. They both have a history of reacting badly to loud noises.

Seungwan chuckles, pointing to the balcony window. “Hard to say for sure, but I think she’s doing great.”

Sooyoung peers over to where she’s gesturing. Yerim and Seulgi have taken over handling the grill, taking turns personally feeding Joohyun, alternating between spicy pork belly and bulgogi beef. Joohyun looks content as ever, being pampered by them, opening her mouth wide for each bite. She seems to be reacting a lot better to the fireworks, too, only barely flinching when a particularly big explosion crops up. When they notice Sooyoung staring, they send her smiles and a few thumbs up. Sooyoung sends a thumbs up back at them, laughing.

“You should join them, unnie,” Sooyoung says, nudging her.

“You mean _we_ should join them,” Seungwan counters.

Sooyoung shivers when she eyes the fireworks still blasting outside. “No—seriously. I’ll be fine here. I kind of need to clean up the mess we made, anyway.”

“That can wait. Come on, give me your phone.”

Sooyoung blinks. “What?”

“Trust me,” she insists, beckoning her over.

Warily, Sooyoung pulls out her phone and hands it to her.

Then, out of nowhere, Seungwan whips out a tote bag, procuring a headset from it. It’s a large, clunky thing—a mammoth of a device with a thick plastic headband and even thicker leather earpads cushioning the speakers. There’s a long microphone boom attached to it, too, protruding out like a sore thumb. The headset is so _hideous_ that Sooyoung can’t help but bark a laugh when she finally processes its existence. It’s something she’d never be caught wearing in public.

“Where in the world did you even _get_ that,” Sooyoung asks.

“It’s a secret,” Seungwan says. “It has state of the art noise-cancellation, though, so…” She cants her head toward the balcony. “What do you say?”

Sooyoung’s eyes widen. No way. There’s absolutely no way that Seungwan is thoughtful enough to bring a freakin’ noise-cancelling headset on the off chance that Sooyoung would still get triggered by the sound of fireworks.

Except, she totally is. She absolutely is—the reality of the situation is proof of that fact—and Sooyoung’s kind of blown away. No, she’s _extremely_ blown away.

When Seungwan’s lips curve up into one of her stupidly charming grins, Sooyoung’s knees buckle—and _oh_ , how could she not be deeply, irrevocably head over heels in love with her?

“Fine,” Sooyoung finally acquiesces, because who is she to say no to the love of her life?

Seungwan pumps her fist in celebration of her victory, and then plugs the headset into her phone. She unlocks her phone—they’ve memorized each other’s passcodes by now—and finds a random piece from the classical playlist.

“Ready?” she asks.

When Sooyoung nods in confirmation, Seungwan comes face to face with her, tongue sticking out to the side as she focuses on placing the device over her head. A cello ensemble rendition of _La Vie en Rose_ fills her ears: soulful and expressive strings, a yearning melody. Of course Seungwan would choose a romantic song again, just like that time in the karaoke booth. It’s almost like the universe is purposefully teasing her with these intimate one-on-one moments that mean everything to her but minimally to Seungwan. It’s torture, actually.

The headset starts to feel heavy and cumbersome fast, but that’s the least of her problems when Seungwan moves in incredibly close to, if only to adjust the device snug against her temple. Her breath hitches. She can smell the tangy trace of mandarins Seungwan had eaten earlier, and it only makes her want to lean in a little closer. A little closer, just to—

Before Sooyoung can get too lost in the moment, Seungwan is already standing up and pulling her outside. The chilled air bites into her skin. The fireworks are still going, but as promised, she can’t hear a thing aside from the music that’s still playing from her phone. Nothing but the harmonious lilt of cellos.

Joohyun and Seulgi wave at them. Sooyoung waves back. Yerim sends her a couple of conspicuous winks and a waggle of her eyebrows. Sooyoung sends her a glare.

Seungwan leads them to the other corner of the balcony, away from the others, then leans them both against the railing. She’s saying something, but Sooyoung can only see her mouth open and close, like a fish in a water tank.

Oh, right. Noise cancellation. She can’t hear her.

Seungwan’s mouth widens in an ‘o’ shape, as if just realizing the same thing. She retrieves her Airpods from her coat, popping them in her ears, then makes a few taps and swipes on her phone screen.

Sooyoung tilts her head when her phone starts buzzing in her pocket. She pulls it out, finding Seungwan’s caller I.D. on the display, laughing when she realizes what she’s doing.

She answers the call.

“Hi,” comes Seungwan’s staticky voice. She’s grinning from ear to ear. “This is a nice workaround.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sooyoung says. Even so, she can’t help but match her stupid grin. It’s infectious.

“It’s not. Look—” She directs Sooyoung’s gaze to the fireworks. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Sooyoung looks at them. Really looks at them, as though it’s the first time. And technically it is. She’s never really noticed it before, but the fireworks _are_ beautiful—all the different variants that pop up. Brocades raining down tiny little meteors, a singular comet shooting up into the sky and bursting into a multitude of spirals, an explosion of rings whose tail ends burst into even brighter sparks before fizzling out.

“It’s not so bad, I guess,” Sooyoung relents.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, darling,” Seungwan purrs, voice dipping to a husky range. She brushes her bangs back with her fingers, posing with a cheeky smolder, topping it all off with a wink.

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. She can’t help but laugh, though, even though it’s high key greasy. Any of their other friends might’ve squirmed away in disgust—and heck, maybe even she might’ve as well, back in the day before she developed a massive crush on Seungwan—but now it’s only endearing. Confidence is a good look on her. It’s kind of hot, actually.

She bumps shoulders with Seungwan. “You know, you’re really extra. I can’t believe you brought a whole headset over just for this.”

“Of course I did. I didn’t want you or unnie to have a bad time with the fireworks again this year. I’m just cool.”

Sooyoung crosses her arms of the railing, leaving a space for her to prop her chin and hide her face away. “I was supposed to be the cool one tonight,” she mumbles into her sleeves.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just—” Sooyoung grips the railing with both hands. “Not having a panic attack would’ve been nice. I wanted the chance to cook something yummy for you.” The honesty pours out surprisingly easily. That’s the problem with liking someone like Son Seungwan: it’s easy to spill embarrassing things like this out to her because she’s just so _nice_. And they’re best friends, after all. But ‘embarrassing’ is not sexy or appealing in the least. It’s not girlfriend material. It’s not—

“Oh, you mean this?” Seungwan asks, pulling out an object.

Sooyoung has to do a double-take when she realizes what it is. It’s there, in all its glory—her kimbap ball. She gasps. “When did you—”

“When we went back inside earlier,” she answers. “I noticed you were about to give it to me before Joohyun-unnie cut in, so I just took what was rightfully mine.” She’s giving Sooyoung a smug smirk that makes her want to crawl into a hole.

Her face heats up. Did Seungwan also happen to notice her having a meltdown over that whole interaction?

“Don’t mind if I do,” Seungwan says, bringing the kimbap ball her mouth.

Sooyoung holds her breath when Seungwan takes her first bite. Then, it happens: the legendary event of her eyes popping open.

“Whoa,” she says, staring at the ball like it’s made out of solid gold. “What did you do to this? It’s really good.”

Pride swells in Sooyoung’s chest. “Oh, you know,” she says, turning away before it gets too creepy to keep staring at her eat. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Nothing special. Just the usual.”

Seungwan sends her an appreciative nod. “Maybe you really are the cool one. This is awesome. Really groundbreaking stuff. Who would ever think of making a kimbap ball?”

Sooyoung scoffs, returning to the railing to bury her face back in her sleeves. She can feel the tips of her ears burning. She can tell Seungwan is totally flattering her just for the hell of it, and she hates that it’s actually working. Darn Seungwan for being so nice. Darn _herself_ for having a big fat crush on Seungwan. “Whatever.”

“By the way, this has really been bothering me.”

“Wha—” Sooyoung starts, then stiffens when Seungwan pulls her back up to cup her cheek. Her hand is so warm, so soft to the touch. Then she leans in—and oh _hell_ , what is going on—

—and she leans back out, a grain of rice on her finger. She tosses it in the trash bin.

“Now we’re even.”

“Oh,” Sooyoung squeaks, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her face. Her heart is pounding so fast that it feels like it’s about to burst out from her ribcage. _Even?_ They’re not even in the least. Seungwan has out-swooned her in every possible way tonight.

Of course, that’s not out of the ordinary, though. There’s a reason why she’s in love with her, and that’s probably why.

“I hate you,” she says once she regains her bearings.

Seungwan laughs. “Happy new year, Sooyoungie.”

“Happy new year, unnie,” Sooyoung says back. She can’t hear herself very well, but she’s ninety-nine percent sure that her voice is trembling a little. Maybe even a lot.

Seungwan doesn’t mention anything of it.

They stay side by side, watching the fireworks together in companionable silence. _La Vie en Rose_ ends and _Claire de Lune_ starts playing instead. For once, looking at the bright explosions in the sky, Sooyoung feels at peace.

Maybe tonight isn’t so bad after all.

“Hey, unnie?”

“Mhm?”

“Thank you, for tonight. I love you.”

“Of course. Love you, too.”

Sooyoung’s phone buzzes. She looks down at her screen.

It’s a text from Yerim:

_Get a room!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me at [@jiuwuming](https://twitter.com/jiuwuming)! As always, comments and feedback are welcome!


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